[Intro] First time we cleared that place, she was somebody’s daughter. Second time— she had a daughter of her own. [Verse 1] She wasn’t drawing hopscotch when the police hit the stairs, She was cutting class, smoking weed, acting like she didn’t care. Her and her stepsister, school bags dumped beside their feet, Too young to know how small a town could swallow up a teen. Then the blue lights hit the curtains, heavy boots across the floor, Neighbours watching through the glass, her family at the door. Eviction notice followed. Moving boxes. Empty rooms. I was scraping off the tape where she’d hung pictures in her room. Her sister had a night she couldn’t put in proper order, Drinks beside a tent with someone older who had drugged her. What he did was rape. She didn’t owe us every frame. Missing hours never made that fucking girl the one to blame. Then the family disappeared, their names stopped coming up, Different people in the kitchen, different curtains going up. I had work orders waiting, had another floor to lay— Never thought I’d see her grown and hand her keys one day. [Hook] “This time, it’s my place. This time, we’re alright.” Two school bags beside the door, A kitchen full of light. I had a key to every room, Could fix the lock, replace the frame— Years later, same damn doorway, And the little girl’s name. [Verse 2] She came back with a boy and girl, around ten and eight, Own unit, rent assistance, chance to get her footing straight. She was sober when she got there, making something of her own, Kids deciding where to put their stuff, which room would be their room. I remember how she carried herself, how clear she looked back then, Before the late-night knocking and the people coming in. Then he got released from prison, started showing up around, Soon his jacket had a hook, soon his boots were on the ground. Couldn’t tell you every private thing that happened in between, I can tell you she got harder and harder to reach. I’d knock about repairs, she’d open up a crack— Once she’d wave me down the hall. Now she’d hold the doorway back. [Verse 3] Her dad moved in a little while, his bags beside the couch, Still using, still functioning, still getting up and out. Now his daughter had the lease, he was staying under hers, Both back in that complex after all those fucking years. Then him and her boyfriend took the fighting to the street, An axe came out, her boyfriend ended up down at his feet. Her father struck him in the back while he was on the ground— Same neighbours at their windows, looking on without a sound. Maybe he thought, “That’s my little girl.” I never heard him say. Another violent night she couldn’t wish away. Her father on one side, her boyfriend on the other— And somewhere in that house, two kids who needed their mother. [Hook] “This time, it’s my place. This time, we’re alright.” Two school bags beside the door, A kitchen full of light. I had a key to every room, Could fix the lock, replace the frame— Years later, same damn doorway, And the little girl’s name. [Verse 4] He’d done time for hurting animals before he came around. Same people chasing the same high kept coming to her house. One would bring another, familiar faces at the door, Till the place she’d made her own wasn’t hers alone no more. Then the talk around the buildings started getting fucking grim, Someone dead, somebody missing, people pointing back at him. “Hot shots,” they were calling it—revenge dressed as a high, You’d hear it by the dumpsters, hear it change from mouth to mouth. I didn’t see a killing. Couldn’t tell you what was true. I knew the woman down the way; her son was grieving too. Heard another tenant had been tied up in her place, Kept unconscious, fed more drugs—that was talk I couldn’t trace. Then another drug arrest, another gun, another plea, Names across a news report that used to wave to me. Everybody read the bust; I thought about the day Those kids came through that doorway with their mother looking straight. Then her own eviction came. Same ending, different year. Had to go inside and clear what they had left in there. He went back inside for drugs and weapons once again, She was left without a home, addicted by the end. [Bridge] One cat never made it out. We took Nella from that place. Then I stood there with a roller, painting over what remained. [Final Hook] “This time, it’s my place. This time, we’re alright.” I still see those two kids On the day that they arrived. I had a key to every room, Could fix the lock, replace the frame— Had to paint another doorway. Couldn’t paint away her name. [Outro] I remember when that woman Thought she’d finally made it home.
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